


Fire Lizard Flight

by Tonko



Series: Grand Line Weyr [5]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonko/pseuds/Tonko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ace and Smoker's fire lizards reach maturity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Lizard Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the awesome [printfogey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/printfogey/profile). Any remaining errors are all mine.
> 
> Warning: Gets sappy.

Jitte began the day in a snit; she was so hungry and impatient that Smoker nearly had his fingers bitten when feeding her in the morning, and her mood did not improve after she'd eaten. Unlike their usual intermittent rapport, he found himself aware of her state almost constantly, a tight little bundle of itchy irritation.

He knew what it meant. Jitte was a year old now, reaching maturity. Smoker's chest tightened with immediate tension as he considered what would happen today.

He'd known this was coming, put it at the back of his mind, except for rare imaginings of Ace's little Striker rising after Jitte. The two were dear companions, sleeping curled around each other whenever their humans were in the same room long enough, chattering quietly when together for shorter periods, grooming one another... it wasn't an idle hope that Striker would fly her.

That they were clutchmates was not relevant. Fire lizards, like dragons, had no innate aversion to sex between siblings—there was no need, since most viable eggs were only laid by the golds, who attracted large enough followings during flight to avoid hereditary issues. Beyond that, green fire lizards, like green dragons, were made sterile by firestone consumption anyway. They often consumed it by instinct in the wild already, and were actively trained to use it when owned by dragonriders.

Now, Jitte hissed and paced along his desk, unwilling to settle or calm down.

Smoker felt Seigith wake up. Smoker had walked down for breakfast himself, letting the bronze sleep in a little, as was usual. _She's getting ready?_ Seigith asked, immediately interested when he realized what Smoker was thinking about. Not that he didn't know how a green ready to rise acted, at least a green dragon, but he was looking forward to the unique perspective this would give him. Not every male dragon got to have this taste of the other side of a mating flight.

Smoker responded with a curt, wordless affirmative, and Seigith reeled in his enthusiasm to prod with some concern at his rider's worry. The next thing Smoker heard was Seigith speaking to Merath. Smoker sighed in feigned annoyance, relief easing a little of the tightness inside him, though with some guilt, because at this hour on a restday Ace would still be asleep.

What options Ace might offer, though, Smoker didn't know. Jitte could not be prevented from rising, nor the interested males in the Weyr from chasing her.

But Smoker did not want to become the center of a chase, to the point that the idea made him physically uncomfortable. It had been hard enough letting Ace into his bed, after so many years of shutting out any kind of physical intimacy. Smoker was extremely ill at ease with the prospect of any of his riders or any of the weyrfolk closing around him like he'd seen in every draconic mating flight he'd ever been a part of.

Fire lizard flights didn't impart the mindless sinking into lust that a dragon mating flight did, and though Smoker managed to come back to himself just fine after winning one of those, and act towards his temporary bed partner with manners befitting a weyrleader and decent human being, the thought of losing so much control over himself while still aware of it, with so many to see... it caused little else except fear in him.

Seigith offered some gentle comfort, and Smoker shifted in his chair, watching Jitte fidget. He reached out and ran his finger down her back, earning a momentary calming of her agitation as she arched into his touch. But soon enough she was chattering again, the itch in Smoker's mind still present.

His office door opened and there was Ace, Striker swooping in above his head just before he closed the door again, winging over to land by Jitte on Smoker's desk. His cheep of greeting was met with a hiss, to the little bronze's confused dismay. Smoker gave him a consoling scratch on his eyeridge, sighing as Ace approached his desk and shooed Striker farther back to sit on Smoker's desk blotter so Ace could perch on the edge.

“Yeah, she's really gonna go up,” Ace said, studying Jitte with raised eyebrows. He looked at Smoker searchingly. “Not happy?”

Smoker stared down at Striker, who was cautiously approaching Jitte again. He folded his arms in front of him, dodging Ace's gaze. “I'm...” Hesitation. Pathetic. “I don't—Getting pinned by a crowd of horny people is not my idea of a pleasant time,” he finally ground out, giving a defensive half-shrug.

“But you don't have to go with the winner, if Striker doesn't get her,” Ace reached over to pat Striker soothingly when Jitte chittered angrily at him. “It's not a dragon mating flight. And no one's gonna expect you to.”

There were few in the Weyr who weren't aware of his and Smoker's relationship by now. Back after that first post-mating-flight encounter, Smoker had been mildly nonplussed to discover, courtesy of a very amused Hina, that rumours about the two of them had been running rampant for years, ever since Ace's first appearance at Grand Line Weyr when he'd still been an emissary from Whitebeard's fleet. Now it was just common knowledge that they had something going on, if knowledge that most everyone knew not to ever actually bring up to Smoker himself. Ace, Smoker had heard from various sources, was equally circumspect, if much more genial about refusing to discuss it than Smoker was.

And it was true. No one would expect him to go with anyone but his preferred partner.

Smoker clenched his jaw. “I know that,” he snapped, annoyed at Ace stating the obvious, and irrationally reassured at once. Ace _would_ be there to catch him. And even riders participating in dragon mating flights arranged surrogates now and then. It wasn't shameful, and Smoker wasn't ashamed that he would do just that if the situation arose.

It was the part _before_ that. Knowing the effect on him, as eager bodies pressed in around him... perhaps nonsensical, given that he participated in that mob every time Seigith rose after a female, but he couldn't drive away the stomach-twisting unease of the role of the pursued. In chasing mobs, no one was watching, no one paid a damn bit of attention to how a rider jostled, half-naked among the other chasing riders, drawn to the green's rider, everyone's mind far up in the distance with their dragons... everything was simpler.

For this, too much awareness stayed behind. Jitte would not dominate his mind like Seigith did.

Most riders and weyrfolk wouldn't care—they'd be totally at ease, the un-selfconsciousness carrying over from participation in mating flights and the traditional casual encounters afterwards. Smoker didn’t have that luxury.

Smoker loved his Weyr, his people, was indescribably proud of the strides their efforts had made in returning the Weyr to its proper functioning and status.

But he could not just join in so easily. There were a certain few he'd ever dare let see him in that state, and only one might be involved in this today.

But appearances were important. It would be ridiculous and unseemly for the weyrleader to hide in his office or his quarters while all those whose fire lizards chose to rise after Jitte gathered together. Ace might be the one everyone knew would catch Smoker when Seigith was outflown during a mating flight, but that did not equate to them finding it normal for Smoker to cower in his quarters for a _fire lizard_ flight.

Ace ducked down to catch his eyes again, Smoker met them with a discomfited glower. “So... let's get out of here then,” Ace said, as though it was that simple. “It's restday,” he pointed out, “not that you'd know it.” He briefly eyed the stack of reports sitting on the opposite corner of Smoker's desk as though they might bite. “Let's go back to the lake, have a free day.”

Smoker looked at him then, frowning. That suggestion was untenable. “We can't,” he said incredulously, and looked at Jitte, still pacing the edge of his desk. “We don't even know if he'll go up, we can't just bring her out alone.”

 _She wouldn't be alone. I can call others,_ Seigith offered. _That wild bunch from the hunting island,_ he said, meaning the large, rocky island with the couple of sandy beaches and oft-hunted flocks of wherries. The fair of fire lizards there was shy of humans, but Seigith was always able to summon them to play around him or share the scraps of his kills.

Smoker reached for the stack of reports. This was ridiculous and cowardly. He'd manage, and he'd get Ace at the end of it either way. “Never mind. I have work to d—”

“My Captain,” Ace said quietly, putting his hand down on the reports as Smoker began to open one, and Smoker fell silent. “Stop making things harder for yourself. I thought I was getting you to kick that habit.”

Smoker looked up, meeting Ace's eyes, almost flinching at the caring there. “You're the only habit around to kick, Portgas,” he growled, and Ace's eyes brightened. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Smoker's mouth, then sat up and slid off the desk.

“I'll get some stuff together,” he said, heading for the door. “Striker? No? Alright, be good.” He closed the door behind him. Striker was too interested in Jitte to follow him, it seemed, which boded well for later. She wouldn't let him get near, though, and so he gave a tiny whistling sigh, and climbed with resignation up Smoker's arm to his shoulder, draping himself glumly.

“Not kicking that habit,” Smoker said quietly, and opened the first report. He could probably get through one or two before Ace finished his preparations.

*

Smoker felt a good deal calmer, but Jitte was in no better of a mood, when they set themselves up at Ace's lake. She was chattering angrily at him, at Ace, at everyone. Even Seigith couldn't get her to calm down. After a certain point, Smoker could get nothing from her but sendings of sparking agitation and annoyed frustration. She'd chased Striker away yet again when he'd tried to go to sleep next to her, and the little bronze had curled up by the food basket, leaving Jitte to fidget and pace and keep up her ongoing mutter of irritation.

Smoker kept an eye on her. Another benefit of having capitulated to Ace's idea for the day—he was able to pay better attention to her, instead of attempting to bury himself in work as he waited for the inevitable.

“She doing alright?” Ace asked, reeling in his third fish. They were settled with rods and pails on a grassy ledge about ten feet above the water's surface, their food basket and a couple of spread blankets close by. The now-familiar setting was almost offensively romantic, and Smoker was quite content, as he could never quite believe he'd manage to feel, and somehow inevitably did, out here at this lake. Ace was quietly gleeful next to him. The dragons were sunning together a couple of dragonlengths away. Striker was sprawled asleep on the blanket. Everyone was happy, except for Smoker's little green bundle of nerves. That wouldn't last forever, though.

“Little quieter just now,” Smoker answered, reeling in his empty line and watching Jitte where she was perched on a large boulder that pushed up through the ground nearby.

“Yeah...” Ace trailed off, and looked at Striker, where the little bronze was stretching awake, and blinking intently in Jitte's direction. “You know, I think...”

From Seigith, Smoker felt a sudden surge of anticipation. _Have fun, my love,_ the bronze said, and Smoker watched Jitte gather herself on the rock, her bright green hide almost luminescent.

And Smoker felt something from her that he'd been expecting, anticipating, since the morning, a trickle of heat that began almost imperceptibly and slowly flowed faster, a constant influx instead of the brief sendings she normally shared, her irritation evaporated as her new focus welled up...

Mating lust.

Jitte lashed her tail and let out a piercing call. Exactly like her vastly larger green dragon cousins, she summoned any males in the vicinity to attempt a chase, and the flow of warmth widened to a flood of arousal.

It was reminiscent of the heavy pressure of lust that a gold mating flight exerted on everyone in a Weyr, directly involved or not. But this hunger was coming from inside, a rapidly growing flame being fed from within, instead of pressed into him from without.

 _Is that what it's like..._ Seigith said, fascinated. Then, vastly reassuring, _Striker will rise. She is waiting for it._

And indeed, Striker answered her; rising with a tinny, eager bugle, he darted for her, and she snapped at him. He hovered in midair a moment, and then she was gone, Striker right behind her, the pair flying upward and away to vanish quickly from sight, though not from mind.

There was a clatter of dropped fishing pole off to the side, and then Smoker's was removed from his grip and he looked around to see Ace watching him, mouth grinning wide in eager anticipation.

And Smoker wanted him. Jitte's hunger was spreading out through him, tapping Smoker's ever-present latent lust for Ace, and he was safe here to let it run free. He moved, pushing into Ace's space and straddling his lap. He grabbed for his face, sliding his fingers back into his hair. There was no question of the outcome of the flight now, no need to wait before contact.

“I'm all yours, Captain,” Ace said, grinning with half-lidded eyes up at him, and Smoker breathed in through an open mouth, inhaling the smell and taste of him. They'd been swimming before and Ace smelled of himself, and of a little fresh, clean sweat from the day's sun and heat. Ace ran his hands eagerly over Smoker's stomach, and around to slide up his back. Smoker descended to kiss him, moving under Ace's hands to settle down against the erection he could feel pushing back against his own.

Ace opened up eagerly, grinning wide and welcoming Smoker in, biting gently, teeth touching Smoker's mouth before soft lips pressed over the same places, the wet warmth that met Smoker's tongue tasting just slightly of the tangy fruit juice they'd been drinking all day.

Hands shoved up under his shirt, and Smoker let go of Ace's mouth to arch under the touch. More than kissing Ace, more than touching him, Smoker wanted Ace's hands on _him_ , Jitte's aching hunger turning Smoker's more usual rhythm of desire inside out. “Don't stop touching me,” he said, before he could suppress the words, surprised to hear himself speak the desire at all.

“Couldn't,” Ace answered, dragging both hands up Smoker's sides together, and down again, the pressure of his grip making Smoker breath in deeply in response, heated sensation trailing and spreading in the wake of Ace's warm grip.

The lust was mounting gradually, hot and running smooth and steady, and like Jitte and Striker's chase and pursuit, Smoker felt the momentum of his and Ace's interaction mirroring the ongoing flight of their diminutive friends.

And for a while, that was enough, an extended session of pure grasp and touch and slow rubbing, kissing and sucking and dragging of mouth and teeth over available bare skin. Ace's strong hands roaming over him, moving through his hair, sliding over his chest, grabbing at his ass through his pants while they rubbed themselves against each other. Smoker's hands were glued to Ace's waist, pinning them together for friction and heat while he moved purely in response to the feel of Ace on his skin.

Jitte flew on, her drive to test potential mates almost sated. Her pursuer was one she had approved of before this had even begun, and he had now proven himself well worthy of her.

One final dodge, then she levelled off. Claws closed over her wingshoulders, and the chase was over. She twisted to meet Striker belly to belly, and their tails twined together in mating. They folded their wings and started the fall. They’d risen to a great height in their flight, and they would separate before the risk of hitting the ground. Their humans had no such concern.

Smoker bit down on Ace's shoulder. Ace locked arms around his waist, heaved and turned them, and Smoker fell back on the rough-woven blanket with Ace up on all fours over top. Ace set one hand one Smoker's chest, leaning on it to pin him down and then descend for another long kiss.

Smoker planted his heels and shoved up under him, and Ace shifted his knees to lower his hips and grind down, answering Smoker's demand for more pressure with gratifying promptness.

“You're something else, like this,” Ace said, breathless, “fucking hot, my Captain, you got no idea.”

Smoker growled wordlessly and finally let go of Ace with one hand to instead lock the arm around his neck, holding him in another kiss. Ace started shoving at their waistbands, and they bucked and twisted clumsily, unwilling to separate even though the desire for bare skin had gone from pressing to irresistible.

Their boots had been removed earlier in the day, a mercy for the state they were in now. When the interfering cloth was gone, Ace shoved Smoker's thighs apart, but then jerked himself to a stop and yanked free of Smoker's grip, scrambling to grab his shorts and dig roughly through his pockets.

Smoker lay back and panted, nearly immobilized with the tingling heat of raging arousal. Not like dragonlust? No; Jitte and Striker were not nearly so blindingly commandeering of their desires as if they had been dragons, or Ace would have been fucking him raw already, damn lube or comfort, and Smoker wouldn't have cared at all except to want it as fast and hard as Ace could give it to him.

But still, Smoker would never have imagined that Jitte's tiny body could have imposed this much sweeping, hungry desire on him. Then he stopped caring, because Ace's slicked fingers pushed into him, his warm body returned over Smoker's, and Smoker could touch him again, feel the smooth, sweaty expanse of his stomach, chest, back. He reached down to wrap his hands around Ace's hot, deliciously hard cock, and stroked up while he pushed back against Ace's fingers.

“Don't,” Ace gasped, “don't do that or I'll just—”

“Fuck me, brat,” Smoker cut him off, goading the lust in Ace that exactly complemented his own, and stroked roughly at him again. Ace tossed his head, pulling his fingers out and Smoker didn't give him time to reach for the jar again, just grabbed for his hips.

Ace breathed out, hard, and pushed into him with one rough thrust, drew back and thrust again, and Smoker held onto him, yanking him back in with vision-darkening need, the stretch and burn what he wanted to feel as much as everything else. Ace grabbed at his legs, the fingers of one hand still slippery with lube against his skin, and pushed them back.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Smoker foresaw the aches that would cause. He didn't really bend that way anymore, not this far, but just now he didn't care. There was no room for him to hold Ace's hips with Ace leaning against his legs, and Smoker settled for higher up, fingers digging into the muscles between Ace's shoulders and neck, sweat on the back of his neck making the grip slide as they moved.

A slight shift of Ace's knees, and Smoker clutched even harder at Ace as new pleasure jolted through him. He felt more than heard the rough groan that lurched out of him.

He didn't last long after that. Ace didn't let up as he might have another day, maintaining his hard, fast rhythm, and Smoker clung, desperate for every thrust, as Ace drove him up, and up. Smoker raised his head and yanked Ace close to press their cheeks together as he came, plummeting through the orgasm with a gasp. It pulsed through him, streaking heat across his stomach.

He fell back, letting his head thump against the blanket, clinging only barely to Ace for a few more hard, fast, strokes, guttural curses and praises accompanying each thrust. Ace's forehead furrowed as he reached for his peak, and then he found it, the orgasm pushing a growl from him as he stilled, pushed deep as possible, leaning heavily on Smoker's legs, his chest heaving.

Ace's grip slackened and then slowly slid away while he panted deep breaths, his mouth gradually widening into a sated grin. He shifted, pulled out, and Smoker let his legs fall straight, grimacing without regret at the twinges in his hips.

He reached up to wrap his arms around Ace, exhaling and securing one arm tight over his back as Ace settled down on his chest. They lay for a time, Ace a heavy, welcome weight. He groped outward and grabbed at Smoker's free hand, fingers stroking through Smoker's, thumb sliding over his palm. Smoker slowly rubbed his back with the other hand, feeling the ridge of scar that bisected the huge tattoo, the remnant of a long-healed Threadscore.

Jitte and Striker would be fast asleep somewhere now, curled up together on a convenient warm rock, and while Smoker felt very relaxed, he didn't expect to fall asleep just yet, though, of course, Ace could at any moment.

Ace spoke, though. “You good?”

“Mm-hm,” Smoker answered.

“M' glad you kept the green, lemme tell you,” Ace went on, exhaling a whistle. “'Cause, damn, Captain.”

Smoker huffed a slight laugh, then drew his hand higher on the next upward stroke over Ace's back, moving into his hair, combing through the few tangles he found. He wanted to speak, and couldn't. The sentiments were there, all the words too, but he wasn't able to open his mouth and say it. _Thank you,_ was the gist of it. _Thank you for making me safe, for being what I want, finding what I need._ Those weren't words of strength, or confidence, or any of the things Smoker needed to keep steady around himself to present to the people he led. But Ace wasn't on the outside of that wall. He was the one Smoker could allow to see fear, the one who he dared let offer support. Still, the words...

 _You don't need to say it aloud, my love,_ Seigith told him, and Smoker winced, but made no protest, and listened, feeling his face flush, as Seigith spoke to Merath. Word for word, as was their habit.

A strangely long moment, and then Ace inhaled suddenly, and turned, pulling one arm up to brace against Smoker's chest and raise his head to look at him. His expression was solemn and intent, nothing there making a joke of what his dragon had just told him. “My Captain,” he said quietly. “I love you, you know.”

Smoker tightened his arm around Ace, swallowed around a suddenly constricted throat. That... that had been true between them for a long time. Smoker didn't know how long, couldn't remember when he'd realized. But it was never addressed. Dragonriders had the benefits of the unspoken often being mutually known, if all of it silently. “Ace,” he said, took a breath, couldn't speak again.

Ace smiled then, eyes soft, smile gentle, as though Smoker had said the words in return.

 _You did,_ Seigith said. _That's what his name is in your mind._ Smoker's confusion set off soft mental laughter from Seigith. _It's true. You've said it more than you know._

 _I love him,_ Smoker said, the thought coming easily, even if the words wouldn't.

 _Yes,_ Seigith replied equably to the statement they'd both known was fact for quite some time.

“Ace,” Smoker said again, and Ace moved properly then, pushing himself up off Smoker to hitch himself higher along him and press a kiss to his mouth, light but long, and then he pulled back, the familiar spark of humour returned to his eyes. Smoker let out a breath, unaware he'd even been holding it, and Ace chuckled.

“Don't strain yourself, Captain,” he said, the pure affection in his voice belying his teasing. “A confession after sex is predictable enough, you don't need to keep saying it.”

“Fuck you, Portgas.” Smoker smiled, feeling shaky inside, lighter.

“Not today,” Ace teased, and sat up, stretching. “Weren't you paying attention?” He stood, scratching at the dried come on his stomach, and shot a grin back over his shoulder. He ran and jumped from the ledge, the splash of his landing extravagant, propelling water up into Smoker's field of view.

He sat up as well, and walked to the edge of the ledge to see Ace splashing around. For all that Ace had lived on the water for years, he was a barely competent swimmer. Not that Smoker was one to talk, really. But they both managed well enough to enjoy this lake. Smoker dove off the ledge and came up, scrubbing a hand over his face to get the water out of his eyes. Ace's laugh rang out as he thrashed through the water in Smoker's direction.

**Author's Note:**

> The very lovely Dragonmaster wrote a fic based on this setting, so to get an additional dose of One Piece on Pern, do go have a look at [Hello, Old Friend](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2436173).


End file.
